


How to fix a broken conscience

by PrimeTF



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Depression, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:41:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21793177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrimeTF/pseuds/PrimeTF
Summary: Angel Dust always made mistakes, and they come back to bite him. How will he cope with loneliness?
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 191





	How to fix a broken conscience

It was the middle of a major thunderstorm, usually indicating this was a much more dangerous place in Hell. For one particular individual, it didn’t really matter in the slightest. Here he was, kneeled over in sadness as he watched everything crumble around him. Cherri betrayed him, taking the turf for herself. Valentino had replaced him entirely, leaving him with no way to earn income. After increased tension at the Hotel, Angel on his own volition ran far away to a remote location where he was sure nobody would find him.

He was nothing now. He had nothing. He had nobody. Not even his own family would acknowledge him. Not that it mattered, since they were mobsters and only cared about themselves. The rain was staining his filthy fur, his clothes discarded leaving only his shorts and boots. He couldn’t wait for the extermination to take him out of his misery, that would take too long. The dark temptation in the back of his mind was driving him crazy, he wanted anything to be rid of it.

In his hand, he held a discarded pocket knife, and plunged it deep into his chest. He knew that being a demon, you couldn’t easily die from something like that, but he kept stabbing himself in various places, making sure to tear open big wounds. Tears were freely flowing down his cheeks. He didn’t care, he was numb to the pain. A puddle of blood was forming underneath him as he kept tearing through himself.

The knife dropped to the ground, Angel fell onto his side, with tears still streaming. He shivered in the cold rain, which was only irritating his wounds more. He clutched his stomach, he just wanted to vomit right then and there. Instead, he only coughed up more blood. He just wanted to shut his eyes and forget everything. He wanted to escape this nightmare.

He startled awake when he felt something wrapping around him. Looking around for the source, he found that he was in a completely different location. More specifically, the radio tower. He looked up to find Alastor had rescued him. He wasn’t smiling for once, a rarity for him. In fact, it seemed like he was going to cry.

Alastor took the time to wash and groom his little spider before tending to his self-inflicted wounds. His shadow tentacles made quick work in healing him, then setting him on a neatly made bed. Even with his wounds healed, he still felt broken. He was broken on the inside, and no amount of healing can fix what’s wrong with him.

He had a flashback to when he died. His father never really cared about him, he was more interested in keeping up his mobster image. He remembered being forced onto a hospital bed by his father and a few hack doctors, strapped and gagged, while the doctors injected a lethal dose of phencyclidine. Fun fact about purgatory is that it’s not a real place, it’s simply the last dream you get before death, and that determines your conscience, but it can also be robbed from you by such drugs.

More tears formed as he recovers from the flashback, and he just laid on the bed, shivering and silently sobbing into the sheets, trying to drown out the detached voice trying to dictate his actions. He barely even noticed Alastor sliding into bed with him, holding him close to his chest. The rest of the night was filled with their silent tears as they drifted off to sleep.


End file.
